


Balls Deep (In Your Heart)

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Walk Walk Fashion Baby [5]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: M/M, lots of banging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about a new relationship is that it's hard to keep your hands off one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balls Deep (In Your Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always to [Jillus](http://jillus.tumblr.com) for cheerleading, getting me unstuck, and helping come up with the many, many places for Jack & Rhys to bang.

Jack had thought from the very beginning that Rhys’ lips would look good stretched around Jack’s dick, and boy was he not disappointed. The kid’s a natural, all hollowed out cheeks and hooded eyes, and the sheer _enthusiasm_ with which he swallows down Jack’s cock is more than enough reason to drag him off into supply closets and shadowed alcoves on the flimsiest of excuses.

Jack’s having a hard time keeping his hands off of Rhys, actually; there’s something about this kid that keeps Jack coming back for more. It might be the subtle way he pushes back against Jack, giving ground and taking it at the same time, so that Jack finds himself outmaneuvered more often than not. It might be the way he lights up when he sees Jack, even as he visibly tries not to.

It might _also_ have something to do with the way he groans into Jack’s mouth when Jack gets a hand in his hair, all pliable and _willing_. All of Jack’s partners are willing, of course - he is outrageously handsome, after all - but with Rhys it’s different.

With Rhys a lot of things are different.

Anyway. As much as he holds the line while he’s behind the camera, away from all that, away from the lights and the assistants and the _job_ , Rhys melts underneath Jack’s touch in a way that makes Jack want to touch him as much and as often as possible. This has led to some interesting encounters; Jack doesn’t think he’s had sex as often or in as many places as he has since Rhys handed Jack his business card.

In fact, Jack has started keeping a list of his favorites.

* * *

_Jack’s Bed_

* * *

The first time is frenetic and hurried, like Rhys is just as impatient as Jack is to get their hands on each other. They leave a trail of abandoned clothing across the apartment, and thank god Tim is off shooting on location this week, because they almost don’t make it to Jack’s bed.

Rhys is flushed and eager, and Jack traces the tattoos on his chest appreciatively as Rhys shivers underneath him. Rhys opens up for Jack’s fingers like he was made to do it, and as Jack sinks his dick into that tight, slicked-up heat, he congratulates himself for snagging such a pretty, enthusiastic young thing.

* * *

_At the Valetta Show’s After-Party_

* * *

Jack halfway expects to be rebuffed when he sidles up to Rhys and grabs his ass at the bar. Jack’s supposed to be networking, presenting his charming face - “inasmuch as you have one,” Fiona had said - but that’s _boring_ , and Tim’s charming enough for the both of them.

Which is not to say that Jack can’t be charming; Jack is very charming. Just ask Rhys - he looks affronted when he whips around, but that melts into something more surprised when he sees Jack.

“Hey beautiful,” Jack says. “Wanna get out of here?”

Even in the dim light Jack can see Rhys blush. He looks out over the crowd as if weighing his own networking obligations versus the promise of some frankly awesome sex, and Jack can see the exact moment he makes up his mind.

“Hell yeah,” Rhys says, turning back with that maddening half-smile. “Lead the way.”

See? Charming.

They don’t even make it out of the building; suddenly going _all the way_ downstairs and _all the way_ back to Jack’s place seems just too fucking long to wait. Rhys makes a vague noise of protest when Jack pulls him into a convenient bathroom, but it turns into a groan when Jack presses him up against the hastily locked door and kisses him, chasing that champagne taste on Rhys’ tongue. It’s worth whatever inane conversation he missed out on upstairs to have Rhys muffling himself with his own arm as Jack pounds him against the door, fingers digging into Rhys’ hips and teeth tracing over his neck. Jack bites down when he comes, and the noise Rys makes then is almost certainly audible in the hall, but Jack soaks it up greedily, filing it away in the small but growing catalog of sounds he’s gotten out of Rhys. He’s determined to find as many as he can.

* * *

_In the Back of a Taxi_

* * *

 This one almost doesn’t count, but it makes the list because of the look on Rhys’ face when the cab driver yells at them to break it up. Jack has one hand under Rhys’ shirt and the other down the back of Rhys’ pants, and he’d been about to haul Rhys into his lap when the driver threatens to dump them on the sidewalk if they don’t cool it.

Rhys face is a study in contrasts: there’s growing embarrassment at the compromising position they’re in, but also irritation at being interrupted, and Jack swears a part of Rhys looks tempted to keep going, regardless of the consequences. Instead Rhys slowly shifts back, out of Jack’s arms. Jack lets him go reluctantly, but the heated glances Rhys keeps giving him gets him through the rest of the mercifully short ride. When they pull up in front of Rhys’ building Jack has the door open almost before the car comes to a full stop. He throws some cash at the driver without counting it, dragging a laughing Rhys out behind him.

* * *

_Rhys’ Bed_

* * *

Jack feels more at home in Rhys’ shitty little apartment than he expected to. Rhys is a little awkward about it at first, like Jack’s going to start comparing the square footage of his and Tim’s place, or belittle Rhys for not having real leather furniture, but Jack remembers when he and Tim lived in an apartment not so different from this one and he holds his tongue.

Besides, it’s not Rhys’ choice of window treatment that he’s interested in; and if Rhys has a queen bed and not a king, well, sometimes sacrifices must be made.

It doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, though, to straddle Rhys’ hips and hold him down with one hand as Jack reaches for his pants lying abandoned on the floor with the other.

“What are you - are you really checking your phone _now,_ ” Rhys bitches as Jack sits back up triumphantly, phone in hand.

“Nope.” Jack pops the “p” as he thumbs the camera on and raises it to catch the full view of Rhys spread out beneath him, tangled in the sheets, hair a mess and the marks from Jack’s mouth beginning to show on his neck and shoulders. “Smile, sweetheart,” Jack says and Rhys catches on two seconds too late as Jack snaps a shot. Jack checks the screen and smiles - Rhys looks like a perfect, fucked out mess, just the thing to keep Jack company on lonely nights.

“Don’t you - _give me that_ ,” Rhys says as he lunges up for the phone, but he’s laughing even as he does it, and the look on his face is more amused than annoyed.

Jack holds the phone out of reach. “Come on, babe, you’re not going to deny me this kind of prime wank material, are you?” He laughs as Rhys grabs his arm, and the resulting impromptu wrestling match ends with the phone on the floor, forgotten, and Rhys flat on his back with his arms pinned above his head.

“Feisty.” Jack breathes it into Rhys ear and Rhys shudders beneath him, hands flexing. Rhys’ breath is coming shorter, and when he turns his head and meets Jack’s lips Rhys kisses fiercely, hips rolling up to meet Jack’s, and if Rhys is ready for round two then who is Jack to deny him.

He finds the photo the next morning, while Rhys is still asleep. Jack is strangely reluctant to get up and leave this warm, quiet space, so he’s lying in bed and scrolling through his messages when he remembers. Rhys looks thoroughly debauched when he opens it, and Jack grins. He’s got the camera open and is thinking about a selfie when he hears Rhys stir next to him.

Rhys blinks his eyes open and looks over at Jack with this sappy little grin, and without really thinking about it Jack puts the camera in front of his face and snaps another shot. Rhys frowns fuzzily, then makes a half-hearted grab for the phone.

“Stop _doing_ that,” Rhys grouses, voice low and gravelly from sleep.

“Not all of us get to take pictures for our day jobs,” Jack quips. It’s inane, but it seems to make perfect sense in this small, quiet space between them. “Gotta take my opportunities where I can, you know?” Rhys smiles at that - maybe it _does_ make sense to him, then, and when Jack leans over to kiss him hello Rhys responds warmly, surprise photography apparently forgiven.

Jack loves the first photo, obviously - nothing like a job well done, especially one you can jerk off to later - but it’s the second one that Jack finds himself returning to, particularly on nights that he can’t sleep. Rhys’ eyes are soft and fond, his smile warm and inviting and just for Jack, and that makes it easier for Jack to close his eyes, somehow.

* * *

_Fiona’s Office_

* * *

Jack suggests this one as a joke. Fiona is held up at a lunch meeting all the way across town and probably won’t be back for at least half an hour. Her office _does_ have a couch in it. It’s traditional, right? Jack is a model, Rhys is a photographer - the math practically does itself. He doesn’t think it will fly, though, until he sees the look on Rhys’ face - intrigued despite himself and trying to hide it - and when Rhys’ gaze strays over to the couch Jack knows he has him.

It’s easy to push Rhys down on the couch and plant a knee on either side of his thighs, to shove that stupid beanie off his head in favor of pushing his hand through Rhys’ hair. Rhys makes an agreeable, wanting noise, settling his hands on Jack’s hips, and Jack has to kiss him, to capture that sound with his lips.

Rhys looks somewhat surprised when Jack slides down onto his knees, between Rhys’ legs, and okay, maybe Jack hasn’t done this for Rhys before but it’s not like he doesn’t know _how_ . Rhys is definitely interested; when Jack palms him through his pants his hips jerk up into Jack’s hand and when Jack pulls him out of his pants and gets his mouth on him Rhys’ head hits the back of the couch with a _thump_.

Rhys is trying to be quiet, but there are these little whines coming through his teeth that Jack can’t get enough of, so Jack presses his tongue to the underside and _sucks_ and Rhys’ eyes fly open on a strangled shout. Jack waggles his eyebrows at him and Rhys snorts, but it turns into a choked-off sound as Jack leans in, taking as much of Rhys’ cock in his mouth as he can. When it nudges the back of his throat Jack swallows, and Rhys’ hips try to jump but Jack was ready for that and he holds Rhys in place as he drags his lips back up Rhys’ dick. He swirls his tongue around the head just for the way it makes Rhys quiver before diving back in again.

Under other circumstances Jack would draw this out, but they are kind of working with a deadline here, and besides, Jack likes seeing how quickly he can make Rhys come apart with his mouth. Rhys already looks close, breath coming shorter as he watches Jack with wide eyes. Rhys pets a hand cautiously through Jack’s hair, which normally Jack would get huffy about in the middle of the day, but it’s - it’s nice, to feel Rhys’ hand flexing in his hair and Rhys’ thighs trembling under his hands and to know that _he_ was the cause.

Rhys’ hand moves from Jack’s head to his shoulder, and Rhys says “I’m -” before cutting off on an inhale, presumably to let Jack know that he should pull off now if he wants to. Which is cute, but this is not Jack’s first time around the block here, so when Rhys comes down his throat a few moments later Jack swallows like a champ, keeping his mouth on Rhys’ dick until the hand on his shoulder _does_ push him away, Rhys shuddering and oversensitive.

God, what a sight he makes, wrung out and panting, eyes screwed shut and cock hanging out of his pants as he sits back and breathes. Jack leans back on his heels and just watches for a moment, absently wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

There’s something going on in Jack’s chest, a tightening behind his ribs. Might be indigestion; he’ll have to cut back on the coffee, again.

When Rhys opens his eyes he has the goofiest grin on his face and Jack preens in satisfaction, levering himself up to his feet and bending over where Rhys is spread out boneless on the couch. Jack kisses Rhys gently, then swipes the beanie lying forgotten on the cushions and pulls it on his own head.

“Hey that’s - that’s mine,” Rhys protests, but it’s halfhearted and anyway he’s tucking his dick back in his pants so what is he complaining about.

“Noted. But you messed up my hair - you don’t want people asking _questions_ , do you?” Jack winks as he settles in the chair next to the couch. He catches sight of himself in the mirror on the far wall and turns his head both ways to check the angles - not bad. He might have to invest in one of these himself for days when he can’t be bothered about his hair.

“Ugh, fine. Just don’t lose it.” Rhys looks like he might be about to say something else, but then the door _clicks_ open and Fiona’s coming through it and Rhys’ jaw shuts with a snap. Fiona’s gaze flicks between the two of them suspiciously, eyeing the beanie on Jack’s head. Jack gives her his most innocent grin and she raises her hands in surrender.

“I don’t want to know. I’m just glad you’re both still here, because lunch may have gone late but it was _completely_ worth it for the gig I’ve got lined up for you two.” Jack relaxes back into his chair and settles into the flow of business, but out of the corner of his eye he keeps catching Rhys’s fingers absently brushing over his thighs where Jack’s hands had settled, and he grins to himself, smug and satisfied.

* * *

_In a Supply Closet Before a Shoot_

* * *

If Jack didn’t know better - and to be honest he’s not sure he does - he would think that Rhys had some sort of exhibitionist streak in him, because although he jolts when he hears the footsteps in the hall outside Jack barely has to encourage him to keep sucking Jack’s dick. Rhys shifts his legs a little wider like he’s trying to relieve some pressure, and when Jack pulls him into a kiss after Rhys presses into him, still needy and on his way to _desperate_.

They’ll have to take care of that later, though. Jack looks forward to it.

* * *

_On the Sheepskin Rug_

* * *

Jack’s taking his _time_ with Rhys this evening, getting Rhys stretched out and ready on the rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The windows are tinted from the outside - no one can see in - but the location definitely seems to trip whatever kink Rhys has going on because he’s squirming on Jack’s fingers, kneeling on the soft rug and leaning back into Jack’s arms.

Of course, that might _also_ have something to do with the way Jack’s curling his fingers, rubbing them up against that spot that makes Rhys jump and moan. Jack hides his grin in the side of Rhys’ neck as Rhys scrabbles one arm behind him, pulling at Jack’s leg and telling him to get _on_ with it already. When Jack finally obliges and pushes into him Rhys hisses with satisfaction, moving his hips back against Jack’s in a dirty grind that has Jack seeing stars.

He can see their reflection in the glass, and they make quite the picture: Rhys stretched out and pale with his arm snaked back to catch at Jack’s head, Jack thrusting into him steadily from behind. Jack watches as Rhys bites his lip, rubbing his metal hand on his thigh. Jack can feel himself getting close so he reaches around and gets a hand on Rhys’ flushed and leaking cock. Rhys comes around him with a gasp, body arching, and Jack holds him close as he chases his own release, hips stuttering a few last times.

They make a mess on the rug, but it’s worth it to have Rhys boneless in his arms, eyes closed and breathing softly, resting his entire weight on Jack.

(At least, it’s worth it to Jack. Tim throws the rug away later, glaring at Jack the whole time.)

* * *

  _Jack’s Bed, Again_

* * *

It’s really convenient, to have Rhys already in Jack’s bed when he wakes up. Morning sex is pretty damn great, in Jack’s opinion, especially when Rhys is all warm and pliable and “mmm, yes” and “ _Jack_ .” It’s less great when Rhys gets up and gets ready to _leave_ after - something about a morning meeting - instead of dozing on Jack’s chest so Jack can play with his hair.

“Stop pouting,” Rhys says with a grin, coming over to kiss him goodbye. Jack gives into temptation and grabs Rhys’ shirt and pulls, tumbling him back into bed. Rhys lands on his back with a squawk, and Jack cages him in with his arms and legs, grinning down at him.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he says, nuzzling the underside of Rhys’ jaw.  “Why don’t you stay here and we’ll see how many times I can fuck you into the mattress in the next six hours.”

“Stop it,” Rhys says, laughing as he pushes at Jack’s chest. “I have to go to work.”

 _No you don’t._ It’s on the tip of Jack’s tongue to say it, but his breath catches in his chest before he can, and where did _that_ come from? Instead he huffs a sigh and flops dramatically over to the side. “Fine. Leave me. I’ll just be enjoying my awesome bed and sleeping in _all by myself._ ”

“You absolute baby.” The bed shifts as Rhys gets up again, and this time when he goes for the goodbye kiss Jack _doesn’t_ pull him close and not let him go, but only because Rhys might actually get annoyed and crap, when did he start caring this much about Rhys’ mood?

“See you later,” Rhys says with a jaunty wave as he leaves, and Jack can hear his footsteps out the door and down the hall. Jack lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling until he hears the front door shut.

The apartment suddenly feels very empty, and Jack wonders - not without a little bit of panic - when Rhys started to feel like _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
